


Vice-Captain

by squiggid



Series: Snapshots of the Karasuno Boys [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Insecurity, I’m Soft For Suga And So Is Daichi, Kissing, M/M, Spoilers, seasons 2-3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24859555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggid/pseuds/squiggid
Summary: A good team needs a good captain, but a captain needs someone to rely on, too.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Snapshots of the Karasuno Boys [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798606
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	Vice-Captain

A good team needs a good captain, but a captain needs someone to rely on, too.

It’s something Daichi’s known for a long time. Whenever the team looks to him for words of encouragement, the only reason he’s able to so confidently hype them up isthat he knows he has a reliable second-in-command to back him up, to always turn his soft receives into smooth sets.

Suga. It’s Suga, with his kind smile and soft voice and the way he can make Daichi feel at ease just by standing next to him.

It’s always been Suga, ever since they were frightened little first years running around the court frantically chasing after balls. Even now, when he’s mostly on the sidelines, Suga’s cheers are the loudest out of everyone’s, even louder than the players on the court sometimes. Suga knows when to push them forward, when to shut down their insecurities, when to tell them to stop rushing and focus.

Maybe it’s because that steady and reliable force isn’t fighting right by his side that Daichi makes the brash decision to dive for the ball and crash straight into Tanaka.

It hurts like hell, and it’s frustrating beyondbelief that Daichi has to rest in the nurse’s office for the remainder of the game, but he feels OK knowing that his vice-captain is back there, still directing the team from the sidelines, still watching over them.

After the game, once they’ve returned to school, Suga approaches him.

“Daichi,” Suga says with a grim look. “Come with me to the club room.”

“Oh? Sure,” Daichi replies, surprised at Suga’s serious tone.

They make their way over to the club room, where Suga starts rummaging through the shelves.

“What are you looking for?” Daichi asks.

“I thought I... ah, here it is.”

Suga crawls out from under some shelves to reveal, with a grin, an instant cold pack.

Chuckling, Daichi shakes his head. “Always looking out for us, aren’t you?”

“I try my best.” With a wave of a hand, Suga beckons him closer. “Come here.”

“It’s OK, the nurse looked at it already.”

“Let me see it.”

“Suga, it’s really—”

“Daichi!”

Daichi freezes at the harsh tone. Like a child following a mother’s order, he does as he’s told and walks forward.

Suga activates the ice pack and then places it gently on Daichi’s cheek, where a bump has started to swell. The pack is nice and cool, but with how close Suga is, so close that Daichi can feel his breaths, Daichi’s not sure the cold can fight against the rising warmth in his cheeks.

“Does it hurt?” Suga asks in a considerably softer tone than before.

“Not as much when it’s on ice,” Daichi admits.

“Good.”

A few seconds tick by where Suga adjusts the pack on Daichi’s face.

Then, quietly, just barely a whisper, Suga says, “This is all I can do, so let me do it.”

“What?”

Sighing, Suga drops his arm and his gaze.

“Ever since Kageyama’s become the starting setter, I’ve felt so useless on the team,” Suga mutters.

“Suga...” Daichi says, shocked at Suga’s honesty.

“It makes sense, of course, and I’m not doubting Coach’s decision,” Suga says quickly. “I just... I just feel like I’m in the background.”

“Suga, that’s not—”

“No, you don’t get it!” Suga cuts him off, hand clenching around the ice pack. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch your friends, your team, fight so hard—get hurt fighting so hard—and all you can do is watch and yell and hope they can hear you.”

Daichi has never seen Suga like this before, so torn and frustrated that tears are starting to form in his eyes.

“I used to be the core of the team, and now I’m barely on the outside,” Suga says shakily with a thickness in his voice. “I’m brought in for the occasional pinch serve or if Kageyama’s screwing up. And if I don’t fulfill my role there, then I really am just... useless.”

Suga lets out a dry sob, and it’s all Daichi can do to reach out and grab him, pull him closer, let his best friend weep into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Suga mumbles into Daichi’s soaked clothes. “I came here to make you feel better, but I can’t even do that.”

“Suga, stop.”

Daichi pulls Suga away, holding him by the shoulders. Suga’s face is red and wet with tears.

“You’re not useless,” Daichi presses, shaking Suga’s shoulders. “Nobody on the team thinks you’re useless. You look out for everyone in a way that I never could. When they’re worried about something, they go to you, not me.”

Suga takes in a breath that turns into a hiccup, still trying to blink away his tears.

Squeezing his shoulders, Daichi says, “I can lead a team, but you can make them feel understood.”

Sniffing, Suga nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. 

—

Suga’s bloodshot eyes are still burning in Daichi’s memory the next day. Glancing over the team as they climb into the bus, Daichi knows for a fact that not one of them thinks of Suga the way he thinks of himself. But how can he convince the guy otherwise?

While Coach Ukai’s finishing up a cigarette, Daichi pulls him aside. 

“Ukai-sensei, I would like to request for you to put Sugawara in the game,” Daichi says formally.

“Oh?” Coach Ukai raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

Daichi clenches his fists, remembering how defeated Suga looked. “He doesn’t... think he’s of value on the team.”

Coach Ukai takes a drag on his cigarette before responding. “I’m afraid that’s not a good enough reason to put someone in such an important game like this one.”

Daichi lets out a sharp exhale. He knows it’s true, but he hoped it would be possible.

“Don’t worry, though,” Coach Ukai says, flicking his cigarette away. “I was already planning to. It’s going to be a long game, and Kageyama will need the rest.”

Daichi’s back straightens at the words. Good. That’s good. Even if it’s just because their genius setter needs a break, at least Suga will have some time on the court and hopefully remember his importance to the team.

“Thank you very much!” he says sharply, bowing deeply to Coach Ukai.

“Eh, no need for all that,” Coach Ukai responds, an awkward wave of his hand. “Now come on, let’s get going.”

“Right!”

Even if it’s Shiratorizawa, this terrifyingly intimidating powerhouse of a school, Daichi may actually be looking forward to this game, just knowing that he’ll be able to play alongside his favorite setter again.

—

It was a good idea to put Suga in the game.

Sure, it’s because Kageyama’s started to slip with his beastly precision set-ups, and they need him to be in his best shape for their final set (if they can take it there), but having someone new on the court feels like the refreshing burst of energy they need this late in the game.

What is it the captain of Aoba Johsai calls him again? Mr. Refreshing?

He couldn’t be more right.

Suga’s able to draw them all together in a way Kageyama never could. Kageyama’s an excellent setter—too good in a way that’s almost chilling—but he’ll never be able to make everyone flow together like water the way Suga can, like pulling in separate currents to form a beautiful, rushing river.

There’s an enthralling magic that Suga has that makes Daichi never want to stop playing with him.

Eventually, of course, Suga’s swapped out, but he runs onto the court again as soon as they grab that final point and the buzzer blares. Daichi and Asahi let out yells of triumph, and suddenly, Suga’s there with them, again with tears in his eyes, but tears of joy this time, because finally,  _ finally_, after fighting so hard and for so long, they’ve won.

The addicting energy is still there on their walk home, even if it’s not as electric as it was before, even if it’s just a bristling static that makes it easy to smile.

“So?” Daichi starts, turning to Suga.

“Hmm?” Suga hums, returning the look.

“You got to play today.”

“Hmm.”

Suga smiles, but for some reason, it looks a little sad.

“What’s wrong?” Daichi asks.

“Nothing.” Suga grimaces and then lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “I’m just glad I could buy Kageyama some time.”

That’s it. He can’t take it anymore.

Stopping his feet, Daichi grabs Suga by his jacket and pulls him close, pressing his mouth against his. Suga lets out a surprised grunt but doesn’t move away, just stares wide-eyed at Daichi.

When they break apart, Suga’s face is red again, just like yesterday, but there are no tears in his eyes this time.

“You said before that I don’t get it, but there’s something you don’t get either,” Daichi whispers.

Suga looks nervous, lips parted, glancing down, almost like he’s afraid to hear what Daichi has to say. As nervous as he looks, there’s no way he’s as nervous as Daichi is; but Daichi has to say this, he has to at least try to let Suga know just how important he is—even if Daichi’s never been great at things like this.

“You’re so much more than just an alternate or a support,” Daichi says, hoping to god that Suga can hear the pleading in his voice. “No one could do this without you.”

Daichi brushes away a strand of Suga’s silver hair and tucks it behind his ear. Taking a deep breath, he admits something he’s been scared to admit every since he became captain.

“I couldn’t do this without you.”

Finally, Suga’s glancing eyes have settled on Daichi’s face. Those hazel eyes are big and shocked, but still so warm. Almost as warm as the smile starting to bloom on his face, giving way to bubbles of laughter.

“Oh, Daichi,” Suga says through a handful of giggles.

Suga reaches up to touch Daichi’s jaw and then leads him closer for another kiss. Suga’s lips are soft, so soft, just like everything about him. Daichi could fall into the kiss, fall into this warm, light feeling of Suga, Suga, Suga.

He never wants to let it go.

“The team really would be a mess without you,” Daichi murmurs against Suga’s mouth.

“Say what you mean,” Suga laughs, poking Daichi’s chest. “ _You _ would be a mess without me.”

Daichi chuckles and touches his forehead against Suga’s, trying to calm the fluttering in his stomach. “I guess you’re right.”

“‘You guess,’” Suga teases, but he places his mouth quickly over Daichi’s before the other can retort.

No, Daichi won’t admit it, because it’s partly not true.

He would be a mess without him, but he’s a mess with him, too.


End file.
